A Routine Patrol
by steam66
Summary: Yet another routine patrol for the Octotroopers and Octolings. Rated T for some detailed descriptions of non-bloody gore. I haven't a category for "horrible grimdark", so I put it in General. This is a one shot.


_Dome 455_

 _Octarian territory- Agricultural Region_

Somehow, he welcomed the decay. The Octotrooper, fresh from basic training and the lowest rank one could have in the Octarian armed forces, felt the warm glow of sunlight- REAL sunlight- from the cracks in the massive dome's sky-simulating screens. Dome 455 was one of the closer ones to the surface, and it had undergone the same deterioration as any other of the far-overtaxed Octarian domes. Rising sea levels had caused the Octarians' war against the Inklings, but they had ultimately lost in the brutal Turf War, and had been forced underground like so many cavesquids.

The other members of his patrol were impassive. A Twintacle Octotrooper (whom had a better assault platform and an extra tentacle to fire with), and two Octolings, elite soldiers comparable to the most battle-hardened of Inklings. They were moving in a rapid fashion, jumping from purple ink puddle to ink puddle in octopus form, while the Twintacle Octotrooper kept a constant vigilance with the rapid-fire inkshooter mounted to his assault platform. This left the Octotrooper feeling somewhat unneeded- he just wandered between the two groups, panning his weapon and trying to feel useful.

That brought the Octotrooper's thoughts to his weapon. His assault platform was built with mass production in mind. It offered just minimal protection, slow speed, and a gun that was about the only acceptable part of the machine's fighting capability. The Octotrooper felt like a tank without the protection- just slow and vulnerable. It troubled him greatly. As the patrol turned a corner, they were greeted with a grisly sight. Inkling ink, a sickly green, splattered everywhere- and several Octarian assault platforms lying covered in ink, engines idling. It didn't take even an Octarian brain to understand what had happened.

One of the Octolings, a blue-tentacle-haired individual, slowly approached the nearest assault platform. Her finger brushed a bit of the ink covering it, and she sharply drew it back. It was an angry red already. She backed away from the hazardous ink, and gestured to the Twintacle Octotrooper, who flipped a switch on his gun control panel and started to spray purple ink over the green. As this went on, nobody noticed a slight moving fluctuation in the green ink.

Suddenly, an armored Inkling burst from the green ink, a black and green weapon at the ready. It released a rapid burst of green ink as the patrol was caught off guard, hitting the second Octoling. She screeched in indescribable pain as the corrosive ink burned away all she was, and exploded in a loud _SPLAT._ The Twintacle Octotrooper began a stream of suppressing fire with his gun as the Inkling ducked behind a wall. The blue-haired Octoling painted a small line of ink with her gun, transformed into an octopus, and swam up to the wall. She popped up with a cry of "YEEAH!" and pointed her gun… at nothing.

The Octoling looked around for a moment, and made to jump back into the ink. Before she could transform, however, the Inkling popped up behind her and let loose a stream of ink. The Octoling had no protection on her abdomen. She let loose a scream, slowly trailing off as she looked down. Most of her abdomen was simply not there. Her eyes rolled up behind her goggles, and the Octoling fell into the green ink, dissolving and mercifully ending her suffering.

The Octotrooper moved back a few feet, and readied his weapon. He quickly glanced at the Twintacle Octotrooper, who was still suppressing an exit from the wall. The Inkling paid no attention, peeking out the top of the wall and tossing a triangular splatbomb. It bounced and landed next to the Twintacle Octotrooper, who cut his fire and ran as fast as his assault platform could possibly move. The splatbomb exploded violently, showering the Twintacle Octotrooper with green ink. It corroded into his skin, but it did not quite kill the dual-tentacled Octotrooper. The Inkling moved into squid form and raced toward the Twintacle Octotrooper to finish him off. The Octotrooper spotted him and fired his gun, hoping to save his dual-tentacled superior.

The purple inkshot hit square on, knocking the Inkling out of squid form and leaving an ugly gash on his arm. The Inkling panicked and fired a shot of ink into the Twintacle's face, melting a clear hole. He fell back without a sound, leaving his splattered assault platform gently idling. Now it was just the wounded Inkling versus the Octotrooper.

The Inkling had caught himself in a bad situation. In a macabre turn of events, the dead patrol members had splattered purple ink everywhere, denying the Inkling his squid form. He raised his gun and fired a shot one-handed, just missing the Octotrooper and leaving an ugly mark on the side of his assault platform. The Octotrooper mashed his fire button repeatedly, firing a burst of purple shots. The Inkling responded in turn, charging the Octotrooper and jumping at point blank, raising his gun. The Octotrooper panicked. Everything happened in a flash.

The Inkling, now minus his legs, collapsed onto the purple ink, slowly melting alive. It was a horrible way to go. Now injured but alive, the Octotrooper surveyed the battlefield. His dead comrades weapons and assault platform, and both purple and green ink everywhere. How ugly, he thought. Slowly turning his wounded platform, the Octotrooper began his long trek home. It had been a routine patrol.


End file.
